


A Most Magnificent Beard

by Glory



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Cullen Smut, Cullenlingus, Eavesdropping, F/M, Fluff and Smut, POV Cullen Rutherford, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 09:17:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13210680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glory/pseuds/Glory
Summary: Summary: Cullen overhears a conversation between Dorian and the Inquisitor in which the Inquisitor compliments a certain Gray Warden on his terribly manly beard.





	A Most Magnificent Beard

He wasn’t eavesdropping. Certainly not. He’d never do such a thing. Especially not to the Inquisitor. No. 

_However_ , it was as if some force beyond his control slowed his steps when he heard the hushed voices on the other side of the wall. Obviously, he wasn’t the one who stilled his heavy paces. He didn’t _intentionally_ tread any lighter than he always did. 

It was purely accidental. 

Cullen peered around the corner, slowly. And if no one noticed him, well, that was their fault for not being as observant as they should be. 

Lana and Dorian were spending time in the library, mugs of steaming tea between them, as Dorian idly flipped through a heavy tome. Their words were softer than normal which was probably what prompted Cullen to stop before rounding the corner anyway. See? Completely not his fault. 

“I’m just saying, love,” Dorian drawled, his back to Cullen “you must admit that he’d keep you warm on a cold winter’s night.” 

Lana giggled – she _giggled_ – as she cupped the hot mug in her hands. “Of that I have no doubt, Dorian. He’s rather bear-ish looking with that dour expression and that warm beard. I do think he’d provide a most excellent source of heat.” 

Dorian must have made some sort of gesture or expression because Lana giggled again, before sipping her tea. The mage’s next words were too muffled for Cullen to make out, but Lana grinned and murmured, “Quite,” a devilish look on her face. 

“I hear it’s quite cold in Emprise du Lion this time of year,” Dorian laughed. “Perhaps that should be our next outing.” 

“You are bad!” Lana laughed. “ _Although_ , I did see some reports from Leliana about red lyrium in the area.” 

The two of them burst into giggles. “It is a most magnificent beard,” Lana said once the two of them had gotten their laughter under control. 

Dorian nodded sagely, “I bet it adds a certain amount of texture to… _nighttime_ activities.” 

Lana grinned at him, her cheeks flushing red over the rim of her mug. “It’s quite exotic, really. The Dalish are not at all prone to facial hair.”

“Exotic or erotic?” Dorian questioned, drawing out the word erotic in an exaggerated manner. 

“I wouldn’t know about the latter,” Lana replied. “Yet!” 

Just then, Dorian slammed shut the book he was flipping through and dropped the tome on the table nearest him, turning in his seat. Cullen straightened, he was not crouching behind a wall, and casually walked into the room. 

Lana smiled at his entrance, and moved to set her tea down. She rose gracefully to greet him. 

“Commander,” she breathed. 

“Inquisitor,” Cullen greeted, “Dorian.” Smiling apologetically at the mage, he turned towards his Inquisitor. “Lana, I was hoping for a moment of your time.” 

Usually she was the one tempting him out of his office for a stroll on the battlements. He thought he’d return the favor today. 

And then he’d stumbled onto that wholly inappropriate conversation! How could a beard be magnificent?

“Of course,” she replied. She smiled at Dorian and excused herself, taking the arm he offered as they strolled out of the library. 

“Has Dorian anything of interest to say?” Cullen inquired politely. 

She waved the question away with her free hand, “Ahh, no. Just idle gossip.” A secretive smile graced her face and Cullen barely stopped himself from frowning. 

“What say you, Commander?” she continued. “Is this a business meeting? Or pleasure?” 

They were still within Skyhold’s main tower. The curving stairwell would eventually let them out onto the battlements, but Cullen stopped suddenly in front of a small alcove. 

“Pleasure, definitely,” he told her, sweeping her into his arms and into a most passionate kiss. _Beard! Bah!_ Lana returned his fervor and let herself be pushed back against the stone wall, his body trapping hers.

When Cullen finally released her, Lana was breathing heavily, cheeks flushed with color, “And just what did I do to deserve that” she asked, rather breathily, he was pleased to note. 

Cullen grinned down at her, moving his hand up to tangle into the now loosened hair at the nape of her neck, “Oh nothing. I just suddenly realized it was mid-day and I hadn’t yet kissed you senseless.” 

“Well, then,” she huffed, lust still apparent by the way her eyes couldn’t seem to look away from his mouth, “we should do this every day.” 

“Yes, mum,” Cullen replied, dipping his head down to trail kisses along her neck. Lana laughed then, grasping for his face she pulled his head up in an attempt to reach his mouth.

“That tickles! You’re all stubbly!” 

Cullen paused, looking down into her face, his mouth turned down into a frown. “ _Stubbly?_ Is that bad?”

“Of course not! I rather like it,” she didn’t seem to notice his petulance. “But it’s cold up against this wall and while I thoroughly enjoyed being kissed senseless, perhaps we can move this to a more private locale?” Cullen was not so deep into his thoughts about Blackwall’s beard that he didn’t notice the suggestive tilt to her head as her hands dipped towards his waist. 

He was just about to kiss her again when the call of a large trumpet echoed through the keep. War Council. Ugh. 

Her head snapped up at the sound and Cullen started to release her before changing his mind. His mouth descended on hers once more and she kissed him back insistently. The small hands at his waist pulled him towards her and he found himself pushing her even further into the wall. His tongue swept into her mouth and he tugged on her hair softly to deepen the kiss. 

When the trumpet sounded the second time, Lana finally broke away. She pressed her head to his breast plate for a moment before disentangling herself from his grasp. 

“It’s probably word from Harding. We were to leave again when she got back with her report” Her voice trailed off and she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight hug, “I’ll miss you.” 

“And I, you,” he replied tightening his grip around her. “How long will you be?” 

“I’m not certain. A week? We’re heading back to the Hinterlands to look for some Tome for Vivienne.” 

Cullen smiled, _not_ Emprise du Lion then. 

“Will you see me off?” she asked, pulling away from him. 

“It’d be my honor.”

\--

The inquisitor had been gone a week and Cullen’s face itched something awful. 

Covered in a light sheen of sweat he scratched at the back of his neck and then at his throat as he made his way to his quarters. He’d been a bit hard on his recruits today and while he knew, in theory, that they all needed the increased drills he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for taking out his frustrations on a group of greens. He’d been in such a terrible mood ever since Lana left. 

Waving to Solas he pushed through the door to the battlements taking pleasure in the gust of wind that cooled his sweaty face as he followed the path to his office. He loosened the buckles to his cape and pulled it off on the way, intending to wash up before supper. 

He pushed open the door, tossed the cape across the chair by the door and paused. 

Josephine had been in his office that much was certain. A seamstresses dummy was tucked into the corner, his red jacket displayed nicely. It had been steamed and pressed. 

That only meant one thing. Nobles. 

Sure enough, there was a note on his desk.

>   
>  _Commander,  
>  _
> 
> __
> 
> The Inquisition is pleased to honor Comte Greagor Rothschild for dinner this evening. I’ve taken the liberty of airing out your jacket.  
> 
> 
> There is warm water in your loft that you might make yourself presentable.  
> 
> 
> Please read through the enclosed packet on Comte Rothschild before joining us.  
> 
> 
> Your servant,  
> 
> 
> _Ambassador Montilyet  
>  _

_Presentable?_ Cullen, crumbled the paper in his fist before tossing it down onto the desk. _Presentable?_

Grabbing the leather folder on the Comte from his desk, he made his way to the loft. Josephine had some nerve. 

A hip tub filled with steaming water had been drug up the ladder. On his bed a neatly laid out tray held his comb, a small silver mirror, a bar of soap and a razor. _It seems not all women appreciate a manly beard_ , Cullen thought as he picked up the mirror. 

Taking in the week’s worth of growth on his face, he didn’t think he looked bad. Quite dashing, really. Certainly, presentable enough for a Comte. 

Sighing, he determined he _could_ clean up his neck a bit and set about getting ready for dinner. 

\--

The soldier paled as Cullen rounded the corner, his face a thundercloud. He knew he should keep his temper better hidden, but Lana had been gone a fortnight and he was this close to losing it on the next person who stared at his face instead of looking him in the eyes. 

“Report,” he snapped at the soldier, pulling the ledger out of his hands. 

“The Inquisitor sent a raven, Commander. She is on her way back to Skyhold. Might even make it here tonight.” 

Finally, some good news. “Thank you, soldier.” 

The man, Timothy, turned on his heel and trotted quickly in the other direction. Obviously, he was eager to be anywhere Cullen wasn’t. 

Turning towards the tavern, Cullen flipped open the oiled folder to read through the report. The raven had been sent two days ago. Unless they ran into trouble on the road they should be home tonight. 

Stepping into the dimly lit confines of the tavern, Cullen took a seat at the bar, signaling to Cabot for a drink. The dwarf had been much nicer to him the last couple days. 

Out of nowhere, Cole appeared next to him perched precariously on a stool, seemingly at his ease. Cullen hated when he did that. There one moment, gone the next. 

“She doesn’t need the warmth when she’s got the fire,” he muttered in the same nonsensical manner he always did. “Lions are preferable to bears.” 

Cullen started to turn to ask just what in the bloody hell he was talking about, but Cole was gone before he could shift in his seat. 

\--

The bell’s ring was really more of a clang, and while it definitely wasn’t melodic in any way, it was loud. At that moment, however, it was music to Cullen’s ears. It meant Lana was back. 

Dismissing the scout in his office, he bounded out the door and headed towards the stables. Yes, she’d want to see to her horses and so that was the fastest place to find her. 

He forgot that Blackwall and his beard also lived above the stables. 

Cullen was waiting for them when they arrived. Dorian reached him first. The mage swung off his horse lithely, handing the reigns directly toward a stable boy. He caught a glimpse of Cullen out of the corner of his eye and turned to nod a greeting. The moment Dorian actually took in Cullen’s appearance, however, his eyebrows shot straight up and a smirk crossed his face. “Commander.” 

The Iron Bull walked his great mount in next. No doubt, it needed the rest from carrying his large frame for so long. Behind the massive Qunari was the Inquisitor. And Blackwall. 

Lana tossed her reigns to the Gray Warden as she dismounted, her eyes immediately coming to rest on Cullen. A grin split her face as she practically danced over to him. “Commander!” she exclaimed. “Is this the new fashion in Honnleath?” 

Cullen ducked his head at her scrutiny and rubbed at the back of his neck and then at the scruff along his chin. “Ah…” 

Dorian cleared his throat quite loudly, suddenly behind Cullen, and the former Templar heard the mage sing-song under his breath, “It’s not polite to eavesdrop.” 

Cullen glared at Dorian and then at Blackwall for good measure, before offering his arm to Lana. 

“Inquisitor. If you’re not too weary from your travel, I have those reports you requested.” 

“Reports,” The Iron Bull grunted, “Is that what they call a –“ His deep voice cut off in a grunt when Dorian elbowed him in the stomach. 

Lana looked up at him, that wide smile still on her face, “Not too tired at all, Commander.” 

\--

It was wonderful to see her again. To feel her heat against him as they walked arm in arm across the small quad. 

When they reached the main hall he started to turn right, to direct her towards his office, but she continued forward dragging him with her. “My quarters, please,” she murmured under her breath. “I need to change out of this armor.”

Cullen let his eyes travel the length of her to make sure she was uninjured before continuing forward to her quarters. 

The door had barely shut behind him before Lana was pressing him back against it, her hands digging deep into the fur of his pauldrons as she attacked her mouth with his.  
“Missed you so much,” she growled. 

Cullen allowed himself to be slammed backwards, briefly hoped no one was standing too close to the door, and then slipped his hands down to grasp Lana’s thighs and lift her up against him. Her slim legs immediately circled his waist and he wasted no time in kissing her absolutely thoroughly. 

Spinning around, he pressed her up against the wall to the stairwell, echoes of their last encounter flitting through his mind. 

“Missed you,” he told her, kissing down the side of her face then the shell of her ear, before burying his head in her neck. He bit lightly on the skin there, tugging gently with his teeth, and she gasped. Mmm… not so ticklish this time, eh?

Lana had one hand buried in the hair on the back of his neck and the other was roaming his chest, undoing buckles and straps, hurried fingers making quick work of his cape. It fell to the floor with a quiet whoosh and she brought her head down to his to press their lips together once more. 

Her tongue was demanding entrance to his mouth and he pushed her back into the wall, rutting up against her, hard. 

She moaned against his mouth in encouragement and then broke away to focus once more on his armor. “Too much clothing,” she groaned, when his grip on her ass shifted, tightening and squeezing. He moved to trail kiss down the column of her throat once more and was greeted with another shudder of her body in response.  
He smiled into her neck at the shudder pressing one last kiss on the tender skin there before moving away from the wall, hoisting her up over his shoulder and quickly climbing the stairs. 

“Cullen!” she gasped, pounding once on his back. 

“As much as I would love to have you up against that door, my love, I intend to see that this lasts just a bit longer.”

He was up the stairs in a flash, dropping Lana inelegantly onto the bed. She laughed as she bounced and tried to sit up, but Cullen was on top of her quickly, strong hands working at the leather coat she wore, pulling at the laces and buttons that kept her protected while out in the field. 

“Well,” she panted as she awkwardly jerked an arm out of her coat, “If this is the kind of reception I get when I come home, I should leave much more often.” 

Cullen smirked and tossed the jacket to floor and started tackling the leather trousers she wore, as he bent down again to nuzzle her neck. He kissed and bit and Lana groaned in appreciation. Her small hands were working at his clothes too, but he pulled just out of her reach to keep her from undressing him.

He did have a plan, after all. 

He pulled her bottom toward the edge of the bed and then dropped to his knees. “Oh, Cullen, no,” she said, pushing at his shoulders. “I haven’t even bathed yet today.” 

“Shhhh,” he murmured, his head dipping between her thighs to kiss at her belly, her thighs, and then, gloriously, the sweetest of mounds. She gasped as his tongue licked up her slit and rubbed his face and beard along the sensitive skin of her thighs. “I’m very busy here.” 

“Yeah?” she asked, the sound practically a moan. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, licking again before focusing his attention on Lana’s sensitive bud. 

Her hand came up to snake through the hair at the back of his neck and she gripped firmly as Cullen feasted. He licked, and nibbled, and kissed, as Lana bucked and moaned beneath him. 

The hand in his hair gripped harder and he could feel her tugging insistently. That usually meant she was close and wanted him inside her. Instead, though, he ignored the pressure of her small fist and turned back to her clit, focusing on treating her with firm, long strokes of his tongue. Lana bucked again beneath his mouth and tried to wiggle away. 

“Cullen,” she whined, “Want you in-” 

He cut her off with a palm to her belly, pushing her back down again. “Come for me, love,” he murmured, his voice husky and muffled by his position between her legs. He sped up the strokes with his tongue until he could feel the muscles in her thighs tighten. That was always the sign she was right on the edge. Faster he moved his tongue until she twisted with a small cry, her orgasm crashing over her quickly. 

He moved back slightly, kissing at her thighs as she came down, her muscles relaxing again. With a grin, he licked once or twice more at her nub and she gasped and tried to roll away from him. “Sensitive!” she yelped, as he leaned back on his calves, to look up at her. 

She sighed as he moved away and started to stand up. Cullen started pulling his clothes into place and Lana sat up on the bed. “You’re leaving?” she asked, pouting.  
He smiled slyly at her, “Why, yes. I’ve done what I came for.” 

Lana stood, moving towards him, her small hands coming up to cup his face, fingers lacing into his beard. 

“I believe, _I’m_ the one who’s come,” she purred. 

“Well yes, that was the plan.” 

She cocked her head, “So you were eavesdropping on me and Dorian!” 

He blushed, and his new beard hid most of the redness that spread up his cheeks. “Ah, well… I might have heard something… about texture?” 

She laughed, a sweet musical sound that always made Cullen think of spring time in Honnleath. She patted his cheek, fingers scraping at the long blond beard. “I suppose I can’t be mad as I definitely got the better end of this deal.” 

Cullen stood up straighter, tried not to preen, “Yes? Do you like it?” 

She pointed at the bed. “That, I liked. But… I’m not sure the beard suits you.” 

He pouted at her, “No? I thought-” 

She cut him off with a kiss. “You are far too pretty to hide behind that beard,” she told him as she pulled back. 

He ran his fingers through his beard again, “Very well. I suppose I can shave it. It is itchy. And hot.” 

Cullen turned to leave, when Lana grabbed at his wrist to stop him. “But before you do…” she glanced back at the bed, redness flooding her cheeks this time.

Cullen grinned, “Yes mum.”


End file.
